Dearest Ophelia (written after reading the new XKCD)
Written inbetween class, Thursday July22
Dearest Ophelia,
I hope this letter finds you, and that it finds you well. It has been almost three full moons since we spent our last night together under the sycamores at your father’s estate. I know not how you have fared these last months, nor why you must insist upon running further into this impenetrable forest. If only you could see that by turning yourself in we could come to some sort of an arrangement for your safety, and the safety of those men you have banded together. I see not the logic in continuing this retreat. You are dooming your men and yourself, my love, to either death in this dark and dismal place or, that failing, a sure noose when I capture you and we return to civilization. Why must you run Ophelia?! You have killed another three of my men, that boar you left wounded amid the traps most cunningly hidden in the shaded grove a few miles back lured two men and an officer into your pitfall. Not only that, but once we had released the boar it proceeded to gore my right hand man Brutus. Poor man, he lay among the leaves and screamed for release, such screams you must have heard from your position. It breaks my heart een more that you would renounce my love and then kill my best friend. Is this war? I remember not the declaration of such, nor do I see why you must pick up the rebel flag against our good Queen.
I will find you Ophelia, and when I do it shall not be pleasant for your followers, for my men grow angry with the tricks you play, your traps and your cunning infuriate even the most hardened of my followers. For you I assure, upon my word, your safety. I shall see to it that you receive a fair trial and a just punishment. I cannot condone what you have done, nor the way you have done it. Certainly you knew that murdering a Duke in his sleep would have some repercussions. My love for you remains unchanged, you shall always be the one who holds the key to my heart. Part of me wants to tell my men to give up the search, to lie to the Queen herself if necessary, and say that we found you dead out here in the wild, ripped apart so wholly that we couldn’t bring you back for identification. The other part of me wishes you would come to me, and beg for forgiveness, for which I have some left in me. And finally, perhaps too truthfully, I must admit that I wish you would come to me so I could kill you with my own hand, and rest assured Ophelia, if I find you soon and you do not beg forgiveness I intend to do exactly that.
I shall see you soon, I pray you stay alive until I do.
Always your love,
Andre.
